


strung up in my web

by Violet_DeLights



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Johnny, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Johnny Silverhand Being An Asshole, Johnny lives, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Omega V, Possessive Behavior, Rocker Johnny Silverhand, Set in 2023, Soul Bond, Streetkid V, Virgin Female V, attempted rape/non-con by OMC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29076780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_DeLights/pseuds/Violet_DeLights
Summary: “I’ve been standing here for five minutes. This pass for good customer service in these parts?” He suddenly said, breaking the hush that had fallen between them.V blinked. Her head felt slightly fuzzy but she took a deep breath and reminded herself that, yes, she did need this job and, no, she couldn’t punch this gonk with his straight, perfect, teeth and…and…“Depends. What kinda asshole wears shades at night in these parts?”Welp. There went her job.(Omegaverse AU)
Relationships: Brief Johnny Silverhand/ Rogue Amendiares, Brief female V/ River Ward, Johnny Silverhand/Female V
Comments: 11
Kudos: 114
Collections: Video Game Alternate Universes/Endings





	strung up in my web

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an AU set in 2023 right when I imagine most enhancement tech really took off in NC and before Johnny died. Also no Alt.

_I know you think you know me_

_But you don’t got a clue what I’m gonna do_

_My favorite song is playing_

_And I’m about to break these rules for you_

V sighed as she glanced at the tiny clock icon at the bottom of the computer screen and tried to ignore the restless itch that was developing under her skin, but it showed only four minutes had passed since the last time she had looked. 

Trying to keep herself from tearing her hair out from sheer boredom, she let her gaze roam around the deserted gas station. Outside the window, beyond the harsh fluorescents, the lot was just as empty as it had been all night, the four pumps standing and waiting much as she was. The store itself was deserted, the aisles empty of even late night truckers or over enthusiastic frat boys browsing the liquor shelf. The slushy machine in the corner was still rotating neon colored ice and the hot dogs were slowly shuffling next to that. 

She’d have to change them out in the next ten minutes and would probably end up stuffing a few in the Ziploc in her bag she kept on hand for these occasions. The thought of trying to choke down a lukewarm hotdog as she drove home in her beat up Galena made her stomach turn, but she couldn’t afford to be picky about her choices in food, especially with the tuition for the next semester of college coming up. 

V had gotten what she, in her more generous moments, thought of as a late start in life. She’d grown up on the streets, more or less, bounced from one foster home to the next until she had enough at fifteen and struck out on her own with the clothes on her back and a ragged knapsack that had everything she held dear, which was mostly a few polaroids of her late mother, a dilapidated teddy bear, and a truly ancient Walkman she’d bought at a flea market for a couple eddies. She’d couch surfed for a while, hopping from one apartment to the next until her latest acquaintance’s patience ran out and she was left sitting at the nearest bus stop, huddled into herself for warmth. 

  
Honestly, it was no wonder she’d fallen in with a bad crowd from there, especially when she had presented at sixteen as an omega.

  
Then just taking up space on a couch for a night wasn’t enough and it was made clear that she would have to earn her keep, one way or another. V had taken to whatever would scrounge up enough eddies for a decent motel room for a night with maybe enough left over for a bottle or two to numb the pain of the sharp niggling something that had taken up residence near her heart. 

She got a cut of whatever she did that night and usually would have to bite her lip at the unfairness of her share from whatever fixer had kept her running all night. But it was an unspoken rule that you had to take what was given, otherwise girls like her would quickly find themselves back out on the streets with empty stomachs and hollow eyes, standing at the corner in their skimpiest skirts and crop tops, scent practically blaring that they were there for the taking. 

Years had passed this way, until she had woken one morning with a pounding headache, alone in her trashed motel room, surrounded by empty bottles and a few packets of Glitter she had yet to deliver to her newest client in ritzy fucking Heywood. Her clothes were past ripe, her hair a tangled unkempt mess, and that sharp something had gotten ever closer to her heart until she felt she would scream herself hoarse at everything. She’d grabbed her few clothes and knapsack, stuffed the eddies she’d managed to squirrel away in drips and drabs into her pockets, and caught a bus to Pacifica the same morning. 

She’d managed to find a decent apartment, since the area around was taken up by an abandoned run-down amusement park, from a guy named Jackie, a towering muscular beta with tanned skin and a deep, reverberating laugh, who quickly became her closest choom. V had never quite managed to get the hang of making friends. Most people found her too abrasive, too quick or too slow for them by turns and she always managed to run them off in one way or another. 

But Jackie, who she’d run into that very first night in the city in a crappy little bar off the strip, had laughed off her acerbic comments and, no matter how cutting her remarks, always seemed to give her a fond look in return and a tight hug here or there. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been hugged before him. When a touch hadn’t meant the perfunctory ones from ripperdocs sewing her up from a bust gone bad or a client trying to get too friendly when they sniffed out her designation or from that one tattoo artist when she was eighteen and high and angry at the world, letting the pass of the needle in her back and the cloth wiping over the trickles of blood try to sooth that boiling rage in her gut. 

Jackie had helped her set up the apartment, had helped her through those few weeks where she had to detox from the booze, feeling both chilled and too hot all at once, every noise dialed up to eleven and a persistent ache set up in her temples throbbing in tempo to her heart. He’d even helped her enroll in the local community college, setting up a meet with his girlfriend Misty, another beta with wild fuchsia pink hair and a fondness for ripped tights and dream catchers, who worked the desk at admissions part time and told fortunes and made herbal teas the rest of the time. She’d found this part time gas station gig on her own, from a friend of a friend of Misty’s. It wasn’t the best pay but it was only a twenty-minute drive from her apartment and it was flexible on what hours she’d work, considering her fluctuating academic schedule.

The only problem was that V was mostly stuck on night shifts and, while this netted her only a couple extra eddies an hour, she couldn’t afford to be picky, about anything really. Staring out over the empty linoleum and listening to the hum of the generators working in the silence gave her time to think about her projects for her art degree or the newest piece she’d tag in a back alley somewhere in the dead of night.

She was just considering the wall of a closed down restaurant near her place, right by the boardwalk, when she heard the rev of an approaching engine. She blinked and looked back at the computer, noting that it was now twenty minutes past when Judy was supposed to come in to relieve her. 

She genuinely liked Judy, an omega like her who never seemed to take shit from anyone and kept shaving her hair into different fierce styles that suited her heart-shaped face and almond eyes. But no doubt she’d gotten caught up in her latest coding project and would rush in an hour from then, apologies tumbling from her lips as she went to throw her bag in the back and clock in. It probably wouldn’t be the last time, she admitted to herself wryly. 

She fidgeted with the lapels of her blue work vest, peeling it away from her chest for a moment to try to get some air flow between it and her black tank top. It was unusually warm in the store that evening, especially considering a cold front was supposed to move in that evening. But maybe her new cheapskate boss, DeShawn, had considered air conditioning a luxury. God knew he barely kept the stocks shelved as it was, the ham-fisted bastard. He always made sure to give her a once over when he came to inspect the store, his smile both ingratiating and leering. Creep. Maybe she’d find his house and spray paint a giant dick on the side of it.

She was pulled from her musings on what color would really make a twenty-foot dick pop when the approaching engine noise came to a loud roar and then cut off. She leaned over the counter and glimpsed a sleek little black car, pulled to a stop by the closest pump. She did a double take when she realized this was no ordinary car and found herself practically plastered to the window to get a better look. It was a Porsche 911. A car that was both vintage and yet utterly badass for its performance on the streets, outpacing any Militech vehicle or even a brand new Sidewinder. 

V saw the driver’s side door open and scurried back to her place behind the register so that it wouldn’t be obvious that she had just been drooling at some car like a gonk. She busied herself tidying the few nicotine vapes and real cigarettes they offered, just to give her restless hands something to do. The tiny bell over the door rang out and she turned to greet the newcomer with her best smile. She felt that smile fix in place as the man approached the counter and crossed his arms, the light glinting off the silver of his mechanized arm. 

He must have been loaded to be able to afford a prosthetic like that. Enhancements were still a relatively new concept to Night City, whether it was state of the arts prosthetics or different chips people could have surgery to insert, opening up a variety of new ways to see and feel and act. 

Her eyes followed the path of that light like they were magnetized, up across his shoulder and chest, which was pretty well built, and up. The stranger was wearing black jeans and a black army tac vest, which should have looked dumb and tacky but wasn’t. His hair was just long enough to brush his shoulders, thick and dark, an almost ink black, and he sported a goatee that just highlighted the curve of his jaw. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of shades that glinted her own reflection back at her in mauve. His mouth suddenly quirked up into a self-satisfied smirk, the kind that said he knew she’d been looking.

“I’ve been standing here for five minutes. This pass for good customer service in these parts?” He suddenly said, breaking the hush that had fallen between them. 

V blinked, feeling a trickle of sweat drip down her neck and, seriously, had DeShawn just decided to shut the AC off today of all days? Her head felt slightly fuzzy but she took a deep breath and reminded herself that, yes, she did need this job and, no, she couldn’t punch this gonk with his straight, perfect, teeth and…and…

“Depends. What kinda asshole wears shades at night in these parts?” 

Welp. There went her job. It was nice having it while it lasted and to think she hadn’t even told off that Karen that had come in the other night and short changed her over a bag of chips and some cheap wine. The lights seemed a lot brighter than they were a second ago. Had DeShawn fucked with the lighting in here too?

The guy chuckled, his voice sounding slightly hoarse and warm. Like whiskey straight from the bottle. He raised his mechno arm and took his sunglasses off, tucking them into the top of his vest.

When his eyes met hers, her breath caught. They were as dark as his hair and clothes, a deep molten brown bordering on black. For a moment they just stood there, considering each other, his eyes on her own, and then his head gave a little jerk and he inhaled, like he’d forgotten to breathe for a moment or something. She saw it when her scent hit him and he stood straight, his eyes wide and intense as they flitted over her, hummingbird quick. 

"Excuse me for bein’ blunt but what in the actual fuck are you doing out right now?” he rasped, eyes fixed at a point over her shoulder.

V bristled, her hackles immediately going up at his brusque tone. There were some conservative types that still thought omegas were nothing but housewives, good for breeding and being seen and not heard and not much else. She wouldn’t have pegged this asshole for one of them, not with his bizarre fashion sense, good taste in cars, and voice like velvet but, fuck, bigotry came in all shapes and sizes and she’d been around long enough to know. She ignored the sinking feeling in her gut and the sweat breaking out at her hairline to fix him with her best glare, the kind that made guys rethink whether a grope was worth a broken hand for the effort. 

“Some of us have to work for a living,” she told him dryly, resisting the urge to fidget in place.

His eyes met hers again and, instead of being put off by her glare, he shuddered in place, his hands forming fists at his sides as he took a deep breath.

“You reek,” he said curtly.

She reared back, properly offended now and wondering how much trouble she’d be in if she went and got her baseball bat from her car and put this guy on his ass, when he moved.

He lunged forward, waist hitting the counter as he reached for her with his hand, his mechno one digging into the cheap wood of the countertop until she could swear she heard a squeal as the wood gave way under pressure. 

V had automatically jerked back at his approach, her back hitting the shelves of cigarettes behind her, her heart racing at a hundred miles per hour, bewildered and a little intimidated in spite of herself. 

There was a moment of complete silence as his hand hung suspended in the space between them, his breaths coming in quick pants, much like her own. Then she caught sight of his eyes again and was startled to see them blown wide, as if he’d taken a hit of Glitter in the past few minutes. A shiver passed through her, her skin feeling two sizes too small when it finally hit her. 

“Oh fuck,” V blurted. “I’m going into heat.”

The man slowly retracted his hand, the movement almost pained, and then thrust his own wrist against his mouth, taking a few steps back. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” he answered, the words half muffled. 

She tried to take a breath to calm herself down. She’d never mistimed a heat before as they normally came like clockwork. But she’d been late last week and thought she’d have a couple more days before she’d have to hole up in her apartment with a shit ton of granola bars and a bottle of lube and a toy with a fake knot to pop. Obviously not, she thought a little hysterically. But then her next inhale caught in her lungs and burned. It was whiskey and the taste of the smoke from a campfire. It was the slide of smooth melted chocolate down her throat and it was _alpha_ ; it was _hers_. A scent that reminded her of the press of the tattoo needle, of screaming out the lyrics to Run The Jewels, of being twenty-two and breathing in the scent of the ocean with Jackie by her side and thinking _finally, a home_. 

She swallowed, her throat clicking with how dry it was and found that she’d somehow managed to climb the counter, legs dangling as she twisted her fingers through dark locks. 

She didn’t know who had reached for who but they were tangled together now and that missing stretch of time would have worried her if she wasn’t so completely drunk on the stranger in front of her. He was cradled between the v of her legs, his hands clenched at the back of her uniform vest, nose and mouth buried at the junction of her shoulder and neck. She had her own nose pressed to his neck, mouthing sloppily at skin and catching the nylon of his vest more often than not. There was a nip placed under her jaw and she shivered, a small trickle of slick escaping her and soaking the back of her jeans. 

“Fuck,” she heard him mutter at her jaw. 

It was then that the bell over the door rang out once more and she felt a gust of fresh air swirl around them, slightly cool, clearing her head for a few precious moments. 

Judy stood in the doorway, one hand holding the strap of her bag and the other frozen in the act of pushing the door open, her eyes wide and mouth gaping at the scene she’d walked into.

With the few blessed minutes of sanity that had come back to her she slid her hands out from his hair and pushed with all her strength. He went stumbling back but she couldn’t afford to keep looking at him, or even to squeak out an apology or explanation to Judy. Her brain had gone through flight or fight and was firmly stuck on flight. She bolted back behind the counter on rubbery legs, trying to ignore the fresh slide of slick between her thighs as she hurtled through the door behind her, grabbing her backpack from the rows of employee lockers and rushing out the back door into the night. She paused to gulp in the crisp night air, feeling frantic with each new lungful when she heard the faint sound of that damn bell again and fast approaching footsteps over gravel coming her way.

She didn’t dare look behind her but took off once more, booking it double time to her Galena and fumbling her keys out of her pocket with suddenly nerveless fingers.

“Wait!” she heard him shout. But by then she’d gotten her door unlocked, thrown her shit inside, and thrown herself in after. The engine revved to life and she threw it in reverse, barely missing swiping the guy as he’d gotten so close, before she peeled out of the parking lot. 

V wiped the sweat from her brow and cranked the AC, listening to generic rock spill from her crappy speakers, hoping to sooth her jangled nerves. She caught a flash of light in her rear view mirror and saw the Porsche from the gas station tear out behind her and steadily gain, the rev of the engines fighting a war with her radio. 

“Fuck!” she shouted, thoroughly frazzled. Was that guy seriously following her? Surely not, she was no one’s ideal specimen of an omega, even to herself. She still fell off the wagon and drank too much every now and then, could curse a blue streak on any given day, and dressed in clothes that were ratty out of wear rather than any kind of fashion statement. God, she wished she’d paid more attention to those fucking omega PSA adverts or even thought to fucking look up some shit but her designation had never been a problem before now. Sure, heats sucked, but it only came up every couple of months anyway and if any guy or girl got handsy she had no problem putting them firmly on their ass with a black eye for their troubles. She never thought an alpha would be seriously interested in her. Never thought she would meet one who had a voice like sex and smelled like every good memory she kept locked inside for a bad day. 

She glanced at the rearview and saw that he was properly tailing her now, even as her speedometer hit well past seventy. Shit, how was she supposed to lose him at this rate? She needed… God, she needed her apartment, her bed with its dirty sheets that she meant to wash but kept forgetting, needed those four squat walls to close in on her and keep her from making any mistakes. 

The Porsche wasn’t letting up any time soon, practically on her bumper and she swerved at the last second, screeching through a U-turn and then taking the first road she could off to the right. She could hear tires squealing behind her and accelerated. Hopefully this guy didn’t know the area as well as she did and she could lose him and get back to her place and lock herself away from the general populace until the world made sense again. A random left, cutting through some generic nice neighborhood and then another right, trying to keep an eye on her rearview the whole time. Finally, she came to a four way stop and gunned it, blowing past stop signs. She would have been seriously concerned about getting hit or a cop noticing her if it wasn’t just passed five in the morning. She took the first on ramp to the highway she could find, seeing no hint of the sleek black car that had been following her and from there it was only a ten-minute drive to hers. 

She pulled up to the front of her complex and barely had the presence of mind to lock her car and text Jackie and Misty a code red, meaning her heat had hit unexpectedly so that they could make her excuses for her at her classes and job. Not for the first time she cursed the fact that suppressants were so damn expensive. But between paying for them or her classes, her classes had to come first. After climbing the stairs on legs that were nearly useless, the slick in her pants making her grimace, she finally made it into her apartment, taking in the scent of her own well-loved space, locking the door behind her and falling into bed. The heat was still in its first few hours so it wasn’t to the point where she was delirious yet so she supposed she could thank God for small favors, but the heat worming its way into her core was still making her sweat and writhe uncomfortably.

She caught the edge of her duvet and wriggled her way to the center of her queen bed, the only luxury she’d ever shelled out for, and then curled in on herself, the blanket creating a cocoon of comfort and heat that was doubled back on her. She might as well catch a few winks before her blood truly caught fire. She dozed off listening to the ambient traffic outside and could swear she heard a familiar engine rev right before she sunk into darkness.

  
~*~*~

  
Her dreams were hazy and distorted, drenched in heat that itched under every inch of her. She saw dark eyes fixated on her with an intensity that made her squirm, saw the glint of mechno fingers trailing cold fire across the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She could feel the rasp of a nylon vest scratch against her back, a huff of breath at her neck, where her glands felt so swollen….

Every now and then she surfaced for minutes at a time, curled in on herself, wrapped in sheets, her wrist pressed against her mouth to give her teeth something to sink into, trying to catch any hint of that smoky scent that had clung to the stranger at the gas station on her own skin. At times she thought that she heard faint shouting from out front, one voice somehow familiar and warm, coming from somewhere below her apartment but these few lucid moments usually dissolved back into visions of being twined with another, finally made _whole._

  
~*~*~

  
V’s mouth was dry when she woke and levered herself up to a sitting position. She grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand and drank half of it in one go, grimacing as her clothes and sheets stuck to her in places, whether from sweat or dried slick. She heaved a sigh as she stumbled up from bed and sank to her knees by the door to rummage through her backpack for her cell. She sent a quick text to Jackie and Misty letting them know she was fine and then stripped her sheets and threw them in the hamper on her way to a well-deserved hot shower. 

She stayed under the hot spray for a good fifteen minutes, five more than her usual considering she had to save on the water bill, and let the water beat down on her aching muscles and unclench the knots in her shoulders and back. Shutting it off, she stepped out and went to the mirror, wiping the fog away to scowl at herself and then smile and pout in turns, putting on a pantomime act she’d been refining since childhood. Never let them see your true emotions, your true thoughts, or it would become just another weapon they could use against you. It was a lesson that had been hard-taught on the streets but was now just another tool in her arsenal of survival. She stepped away and made her way out to her bedroom, pulling on some sweats from her dinky closet. A notification sound rung from her phone, startling her, and she grabbed it from where she’d thrown it on her mattress to see a new text from Jackie.

_You sure you’re okay, chica?_

She bit her lip as she considered the message. Jackie came across as a hulking simpleton to most people, had come off as the same to her at first, before she got to know him and saw he preferred when people underestimated him. Much like her, he’d learned to hide his true nature over time in an act of self-preservation. He could be surprisingly intuitive when the situation called for it and had a deep sense of empathy that made him sensitive to the needs of others. She’d once seen him give the shirt off his back to a literal stranger in a bar when it turned out the man was homeless and his own looked worse for the wear.

V didn’t usually like to pull him into her problems even though she knew he’d shake his head at her in an exasperated way if he could hear her even thinking that. But he was so relentlessly cheerful and optimistic and V had so much shit going on in her head on any given day that to try to tell him anything felt like… tainting him in a way. Putting her grubby little fingers over those sparks of goodness in a futile attempt to accumulate some of her own. She sighed and finally pressed a few keys.

_Not really. You free rn? Something strange went down last night._

It only took half a minute before she received a reply.

_On my way._

  
~*~*~

Half an hour later and with a large pizza and a few beers between them, sat at her rickety table and two folding chairs she’d literally rescued from a dumpster, and the tale had spilled out of her, each halting word making his eyebrows climb higher and higher until they nearly disappeared into his high ponytail. 

“Well?” she finished. “Have I completely lost it this time?”

The last thing she expected was for him to start chuckling until he was nearly gasping for breath between giggles, folded nearly in half on his chair as he clutched at his stomach. 

“ _Chica_ ,” he gasped out. “Only you would run into your true mate and think that you’ve gone _loco_ instead. _Eres ridícula_!”

Stunned as she was it took her a good minute to work up any ire. 

“Spit it out, Jackie. What the hell are you talking about?”

Finally, his giggles died down and, honestly, it was ridiculous to see a man as built as Jackie tittering like a schoolgirl while his muscled chest strained against his tank top and ponytail flapped behind him but all V could feel was a swell of fondness. 

“V,” he straightened up to say, wiping his eyes, “Someone only smells that good to a person when they are linked on a biological level. You guys were each other’s true mate. You know, the one and only? A soulmate?”

V had heard such rumors whispered on back streets between pick up jobs from other boy and girl omegas who didn’t seem to see how stupid it all sounded, idly wondering when that one person meant for them would come along and solve all their problems and they’d ride off into the sunset on their alpha’s knot or what the fuck ever. 

She thought it was complete bullshit, like those omega pamphlets that she was handed at her last foster home that had a young smiling boy on the cover, a bundled up baby settled in each of his arms as he radiated contentment with his placid smile. It had said that her body was meant for an alpha, for the joy of conceiving, for the blessed gift of fertility so she should just find a nice alpha to knot her and settle down in a home somewhere, pushing out babies. 

She had enjoyed watching the pamphlet go up in flames when she took her lighter to it at the bus stop that evening, the shiny glossy letters of _Arasaka Inc._ blackening into ash.

“I thought that was just propaganda. Some line to feed omegas to keep them strung along with the promise of a better life, y’know?” she muttered sourly.

Jackie’s eyes were sad as he regarded her, “No, _chica_. Not that one, anyway.”

Silence fell as she considered his words, trying to reconcile the fact that apparently that stranger had been her soulmate, had almost, if she felt correctly, mated her back on the counter of that convenience store, and she had done nothing except push him away and bolt, just like she did with any unexpected event in her life. She groaned and let her head fall forward to _thunk_ against the tabletop. Jackie tutted at her and one big hand came to settle gently at the back of her head. 

“I really fucked that up then, didn’t I?”

To her surprise Jackie chuckled once more. “I wouldn’t worry about it. These things have a way of working out. You’ll see.”

She simply groaned again, letting the self-pity roll over her for a few seconds before Jackie moved his hand to her shoulder to give her a little shake. 

“Come out with me and Misty tonight, _chica_. We’re trying out _Riot_ tonight.”

“Isn’t that the club that has way too many corporate business types partying it up in there?” she grumbled.

“Well yeah,” he agreed amicably, “But everyone’s gotta let loose sometime right? And we might even pick up a few abandoned wallets.”

He winked at her and she found herself reluctantly grinning back. Jackie had as much disdain as she did for the upper crust of the area and, while she’d never explicitly asked about his past, it seemed he’d done a few things to keep himself afloat much like she had. So, every now and then, they took no qualms about taking a baseball bat to a Caliburn parked haphazardly in a handicapped spot or swiping a wallet here or there. 

She stretched and gave a nod of agreement. “Fine. But I’ll have to borrow something to wear. I literally have nothing for that kind of joint.”

Jackie was already texting at her nod and grinned at her. “Misty is on her way.”

He stood and started collecting the pizza box and bottles to cram into her tiny trash can in her equally tiny kitchen when she caught sight of the back of his jacket and felt her jaw drop open.

There, in stylized black and white, was the stranger from the station, his sunglasses slid halfway down his nose to give the viewer a smoldering look. The logo at the bottom said _Samurai_ in bold lettering. 

“Jackie,” she managed to stutter out. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Oh,” he shrugged, cramming the last bits of debris in the bin. “Newest band that’s all the rage, _chica_. Been up and coming for a few years and finally hit big, y’know? Big on taking down the corps and shit. Heh.”

“Jacks,” she said slowly. “Maybe finding him won’t be as hard as I thought.”

Jackie looked over his shoulder at her and, seeing where her eye line was, looked shocked for half a second before cracking up all over again.

“Only you, _chica_. Only you. _Llevas una vida loca.”_

They spent the next few minutes anxiously waiting for her ancient laptop to boot up and from there it was all too easy to type up _Samurai_ and read the results. Apparently Johnny Silverhand had made quite the name for himself in the music scene. He was known for his pure talent on stage with a guitar and his rasping backing vocals. No one seemed to know much of his backstory besides that he was currently thirty-four and taught himself how to play guitar. His shows were a display of pure mastery, he never seemed to miss a note, and the crowds that he and the band drew in were as raucous as possible. There were articles about a supposed temper and a few wrecked cars and instruments that led back to Johnny. Most of his songs were about taking down the corporations. His designation was noted as alpha.

_Of course, only me_ , she thought with no surprise, _would have a soulmate famous and yet so private that I still know next to nothing._

  
~*~*~

  
An hour later found all three of them crowded around the entrance of _Riot_ , cutting past the line of impatient corp ladies and men, dressed down, for them anyway, in sequins and glitter and ready to cut loose for the night, as Misty worked her charm on the bouncer. Misty and Jackie had made a team effort at getting her presentable and, as a result, her hair was nicely curled and pinned back from her face for once. Her eyes were rimmed in dark kohl, which Misty said made her look mysterious and which V thought made her look like a raccoon. Her lips were dabbed with a clear gloss, there was a red leather corded choker twined about her neck, and she was wearing a shimmering lilac one piece, cut low around her hips and with a plunging neckline that made her cleavage look better than it was. The snug red miniskirt and the black knee high leather boots completed the look for the evening. 

The bouncer, a big muscled beta with sandy blond hair who looked charmed despite himself at Misty’s antics as she read his palm, quickly waved them through.

They hit the dancefloor straight away, letting the pounding bass shake their bodies and the lasers across the floor blind them intermittently. Misty and her were doing their version of a playful tango, which went to the beat of the music not at all but had them gasping through their laughter when Jackie pushed through to them, laden down with mixed drinks. After her third drink of some fruity concoction that tasted like cherries and rum but had a kick that made her eyes water she looked up to realize that she was swaying drunkenly on her own, Jackie and Misty twined around one another as they danced. 

V kept herself from rolling her eyes but it was a near thing. She knew from experience that for the rest of the night they’d be lost in each other, leaving her to either three wheel it or go off on her own. She knocked back the last of her drink and decided on the latter, pushing past writhing bodies to make her way to the second floor. It was marginally more quiet up there with only a few people milling around with drinks and a deserted bar smack dab in the middle of the room. 

She sighed with relief at the loss of heat that the crushing bodies below had stifled her with and strode to the bar to get another drink. V was just leaning back against the bar, a shot of tequila in hand when she felt someone sidle up next her and the scent of alpha, spicy and tangy, hit her. 

She swiveled on the bar stool to eye the alpha leaning into her space, a friendly smile stretching his face wide. He was handsome, she supposed, his skin a rich mocha color and his shorn short hair just making his brown eyes stand out all the more. He was bare-chested, wearing a large tan coat with a furred collar that made her sweat just looking at it. Between that and his leather pants that left almost nothing to the imagination, it looked like maybe her night was looking up.

V had never actually slept with an alpha before. She fooled around with a few betas and omegas, sure, but it had usually been above the waistline and fun for not much else but getting in a solid make out session here or there. It wasn’t that she was put off by the idea of sex or that she had been saving herself for anything (and that stupid pamphlet popped up in her mind again) but she’d never felt comfortable enough with someone to completely let go of herself in that way and to trust that the other person would still be there in the morning. But she liked even less the idea that her biology could tie her so irretrievably to another person without her say so either. Maybe the incident at the gas station had been a fluke. After all, this alpha smelled pleasant to her _(though not as much,_ an insidious little voice whispered) and she might as well have a little fun of her own tonight. Why not with him? 

“I’m V,” she said in what she hoped was a sultry fashion but sounded more breathless than anything.

“River,” he answered, reaching out to clasp her hand off the bar top and dust a kiss over her knuckles. She waited for the little pulse of pleasure she would usually feel with a partner, for that muted delight of skin brushing against skin and felt… nothing. She felt herself frowning and quickly fixed on a smile instead. 

“Care for a dance?” he asked her, his eyes trailing down her body and making her feel…. Nothing at all. Not even a hint of anticipation. Frustrated with herself and already done with her whole shitty week she stood and downed her shot quickly, reaching out to tangle her fingers in the collar of his jacket and reel him in.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she purred.

River’s eyes widened in delight, his hand reaching up to take hers and enfold it. “Lead the way.”

She did, stepping off her barstool with only a hint of a stumble, despite how much alcohol she’d downed earlier.

She led him up the next set of stairs and down a narrow passage with rows of frosted glass doors marked V.I.P. She waited for a couple to come stumbling out, two omega men completely wrapped up in each other before she pushed River inside and followed after. The backs of his knees hit the rounded couch taking up the area and he sat back as she slid onto his lap, hands pushing his jacket down to bare the tops of his shoulders. She peppered the newly presented skin with kisses and then trailed up to his mouth and sealed her lips over his.

It was a soft pressure, a slick wet slide that didn’t give her any of the sparks of intensity she was used to. It was a nice kiss, but it was just that. Nice. She huffed and leaned back to meet River’s considering gaze. 

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” he asked softly and God, he seemed perfect for her, patient and kind in all the ways she thought she needed. Why couldn’t he be the one?

“Would you believe me if I said it was me and not you?” she questioned tightly, tears pricking the corner of her eyes.

River huffed a laughed and gently slid her off his lap to sit to his side. 

“I actually would. Especially with how cut up over it you seem to be.”

A notification sound rung out and they both jumped, River cursing and pulling his cell from his pocket, glancing at the new message and cursing harder. 

“Duty calls,” he told her. “I don’t hold this against you. How about we stay in touch. Friends?”

“Friends,” she repeated firmly, nodding. They swapped numbers and then he was gone, leaving her alone in the darkened booth. A sudden loud bang from the booth next door hit the wall by her, causing her to jump to her feet, heart hammering in alarm. These walls were supposed to be fucking soundproof from what she’d heard around other people downstairs. Had someone thrown something against the wall?

Feeling like she should really know better but too curious not to take a peek, she left her room, letting the frosted door slide close and lock behind her. She crouched down and sidled up to the side of the next door and only then could she hear the faint sounds of yelling from inside. She pressed her ear to the space between the hinge of the door and the wall and could just barely make out words.

“---goddammit, Johnny, this isn’t just about you! I’ve wanted my own place, my own space, since I was seventeen! You knew this, you colossal asshole!”

“But you never said you’d take money from a fuckin’ corpo to do it!” a male voice rumbled and she froze in place, eyes widening. No fucking way. It was the guy from the gas station. It was Johnny Silverhand, legendary rocker boy and, she could still barely believe it, her soulmate.

“You know how much this bar means to me, Johnny! The _Afterlife_ is what I’ve worked to for years and they are willing to fund the whole damn operation with minimal payback! I just have to keep the books even and its mine,” a woman shouted, voice breaking in anger. Her voice was deep and seemed soothing, under other circumstances.

There was the sound of pacing and then another thump as something else hit the wall and V flinched. 

“I didn’t think you’d sellout to do it, Rogue. Not you,” he said bitterly and Rogue snorted in reply.

“Oh grow up, Johnny. I don’t like it any more than you do but this is just the way the world works right now.”

Silence and V strained to hear past her own heavy breathing.

“Don’t do this,” he seemed to plead, “just think about it, Rogue. Hell, I’ll give you the money if you want it that badly. I need you right now.”

A pause and then—

“No, you don’t, Johnny. And that’s always been fine. We’ve always been-- whatever. But if I take your money it’s just another thing that will tie us together in ways we can’t be any longer. I can’t be your fall back anymore. We both know that.”

All she could make out was another thump and, _Jesus_ , how many fucking things were there in that small room to throw?

“I didn’t expect this either, Johnny,” Rogue soothed.

Johnny was quiet.

“But maybe it’s for the best. We can’t go on as we have. Especially when _she’s_ out there, waiting for you. Though I never took you for the type to have a soulmate,” she joked.

“I’m not,” he practically snarled. “It’s all prop corpo bullshit of fuckin’ butterflies an’ rainbows an’ shit. And it doesn’t define _me_.” 

There was a cut off yell and V finally peered through the frosted glass in alarm. She could just make out the two figures—one tall male and the other a slender female, pressed together.

The woman had her arm raised back--perhaps for a slap? —but it was caught firmly in what must be Johnny’s hand, she could see the glint of metal in the dim lighting. Pressed as close as they were there was no mistaking the activity they were engaged in as Johnny kissed Rogue and she kissed him back. 

And despite having thought all the same shit earlier to herself she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach and the sharp pain as that small something finally dug deep and stayed lodged at the center of her heart, past where there was ever any hope of getting it out. 

She stumbled up and away and her back hit the railing and, of course, just right then the music cut off down below as the DJ switched tracks and so in the sudden stillness, her hurried footsteps and the clang of the rail against her back were overly loud. The two figures broke apart, and though she couldn’t quite see his features, she knew when Johnny looked up and spotted her.

_Fuck this_ , she thought bitterly. They were both better off without the other apparently. 

She pushed away from the rail and made her way to the stairs as quickly as she could on unsteady legs, cursing her lack of foresight in downing so much alcohol tonight. 

She heard the slide of a door behind her as she reached the first step and it was like déjà vu all over again with hearing him shout, “Wait!” and her legs pumping as she tried to book it away from him. At least she couldn’t smell him this time. The club was so overflowing with people that it was a constant submersion of _alpha-beta-omega_ scents swirling in the air. She made it down the last flight, ignored the pounding steps behind her and slid into the crowd seamlessly. 

_Take that, fucker_ , she thought viciously as she made her way through the crush of bodies in the darkness, flashing red lights dancing across the floor. 

Even if he’d glimpsed her before, he wouldn’t find her now and it gave her a moment to process everything that had happened. She had her eye on the doorway and saw when he came stumbling in, his mouth moving through what were surely some impressive curses. He was still wearing the same dark jeans and tac vest too and she was angry at herself for finding it so attractive now. He looked up and improbably, _impossibly,_ his eyes cut through the crowd and landed on her, too intent by half. She found herself going still, hoping his eyes would pass over her but, no, they were still locked on her and he was pushing his way through the crowd now, cutting the distance between them in half. 

He tilted his head back, dark gaze never leaving her own and was he--? Was he fucking _scenting_ her? It was impossible, with so many people in the room he shouldn’t be able to pick her out but, she realized, her own nose could detect whiskey and smoke all of a sudden.

Shit, not good. Not good at all.

Breaking eye contact, she whirled around and plunged through the crowd, trying to make her way to the glaring emergency exit sign that surely led to a backdoor and an alley she could escape through. She had almost made it too, when she stumbled into the back of some meathead who turned around and grabbed her wrist in a vicelike hold.

“And where are you going, pretty thing?” he crooned sickeningly, a mean grin on his broad features, bald head shining with sweat. She tugged on her wrist uselessly, this fucker was too strong by half and normally she would have never gotten so close to this lunk in the first place but she was so frazzled by Johnny that she hadn’t seen anything beyond a possible escape. Her eyes flitted to the back door again and this time the gonk caught it and shook her by her arm, her teeth rattling from the force of it. 

“Good idea, precious, let’s have some time alone.”

With that he dragged her to the back door and through it. She gave one last attempt at ripping herself free, the bones of her wrist throbbing in agony as they grinded against each other and the bite at her wrist searing pure pain up her arm when he suddenly let go and pushed her up against the wall of the graffiti ridden alley they were in. Her head hit the brick wall so forcefully that she saw stars and had to choke down the sudden urge to vomit. Her vision was static and black and when she finally blinked her heavy eyes open it was to that gonk’s grin as he pressed against her, his alpha smell making her gag, smelling like rotten fruit, his excitement a sharp sting in her nose, and his erection grinding against her hip.

“Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll knot you up so good you’ll have trouble walking for weeks. Gonna make you mine, sweetheart,” he sighed, still rubbing against her.

She had a hard time keeping her eyes open, her head aching and limbs not responding to her. Was this how she’d finally go out? Raped by some asshole in a back alley and probably beaten to death?

“No, you won’t.”

It was said simply in that velvet voice she knew, that she’d dreamed about.

And then metal fingers wrapped one by one around the gonk’s throat and squeezed, the guy’s eyes popping out as he struggled for air.

V drew in an aching breath as the guy was lifted off of her, inhaling the stale city air with an appreciation she’d never had before. When she could pry her eyes open again, blinking and listing to the side, she saw Johnny’s back in front of her, guarding her as he raised the guy in the air, who was kicking and struggling, fingers scrabbling around the metal hand digging into his windpipe. Johnny, she realized muzzily, was growling. A dark sound that raised the hair at the back of her neck. There was a cracking sound that rent the air and the guy went limp, eyes unseeing. Johnny threw him down and then stood there, vibrating with a rage she could practically taste, like burnt caramel, past that delicious smoky musk of his own scent.

The scrape of her palms against the brick as she fought to keep from falling over seemed to drag him out of it and then he turned and they were face to face for the first time since they’d met in that gas station nearly a week back. 

He looked deadly, standing there with murder in his dark gaze, teeth gritted, flesh hand and metal hand clenching and unclenching and his chest heaving and he also looked beautiful, with his black hair falling into his eyes and the clink of his dog tags on his chest in the streetlight, his scent wrapping around her and smothering her. She wanted him more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life.

Her eyes slipped close of their own accord as her legs finally gave out on her and there Johnny was to catch her in the way she always wanted someone to but could never ask, she mused dizzily. Her cheek was pressed uncomfortably into his shoulder, scratching against his vest and his own arms were two steel bands across her back and his face was at her neck again, scenting her intimately.

“My hero,” she gritted out, warm and sarcastic by turns. His chuckle was the last thing she heard before the world slipped away from her.

  
~*~*~

  
She came to briefly with her body cradled against someone, arms dangling in the air as… she was… carried somewhere?

Before she could dredge up any real alarm she felt a brief pressure at the crown of her head, like someone kissed her, and a velvet voice rumbled, “It’s ok.”

She slipped away once more.

  
~*~*~

  
Again her eyes fluttered open to find she was curled in the passenger seat of a small car, her head facing the window. A woman’s deep voice was arguing with someone.

“I’ll take care of it, Johnny, but I swear to God, you can’t give me any shit after this or I will lose it— “

  
~*~*~

  
She woke with the car rumbling around her, her head lolling against the head rest. She turned and caught sight of Johnny driving, his hands white knuckling the steering wheel. His scent soothed her, was mild now, no hint of the acrid tang of fear she’d smelled briefly earlier.

She was safe.

She was—

  
~*~*~  


She awoke in a large plush bed, curtains of the massive window that took up a whole wall closed so that only the dim glow of the nightstand lamp gave her any sight. There was a rustle of sheets beside her and then a body curled over her own, arms pulling her into a chest. A pair of lips near her ear whispered, “Sleep.”

And she did.

  
~*~*~

  
The final time V woke it was to daylight streaming through the massive window and she was alone. The lamp was off and the sheets beside her were cold. She slipped out from between the sheets and stood, feeling slightly woozy still, although whether that was from all the alcohol or from a head injury it was hard to tell. Her boots were next to the bed and her choker was curled on the nightstand but she ignored them, striding barefoot across the bedroom and opening the door.

Only to find Johnny Silverhand with his hand outstretched, a tray balanced on his flesh arm with a plate of toast and two sodas on it.

For a moment they could only stare at each other, startled at having to see one another so soon.

“Thanks,” V finally said, her throat feeling scratchy, “For saving me back there.”

“Anytime,” he replied automatically and they were both surprised to hear the ring of truth in it.

She found herself being able to take in little details that she hadn’t gotten to before. Like the fact that his goatee was growing out, hair thickening at the sides of his jaw and that up close, and in the light, his eyes were such a warm soulful brown that they took her breath away. Her eyes fell to his neck, to the spot where she would bite it if they were in bed, sliding against each other and interlocked….

“V,” he said, and his voice was suddenly strained. “If you keep lookin’ at me like that we aren’t going to be able to eat.”

Oh, he must be able to smell the _want_ in her scent now. But he didn’t seem upset about it. She eyed him contemplatively and took a moment to consider that they barely knew each other and that she had shit luck and he had a shit temper. And then thought _fuck it_.

She locked gazes with him and let herself think about those dreams she’d had during her heat, such lust-filled images flashing across her mind’s eye like perfect polaroids and knew her scent must have thickened now. A trickle of slick escaped her, trailing down her thigh.

The tray went flying.

They ended up on the bed, teeth clashing as they tried to devour each other, hands tearing at clothes. His mechno arm tore her one-piece apart, leaving the scraps fluttering around her. She’d have to apologize to Misty later.

As soon as her breasts were bare he descended, his knees pressed against her thighs, keeping her spread open, her back pressed to the sheets as his mouth sucked at her right nipple, his cool metal fingers toying with her left.

Their scents were both thick and pungent now, mixing together and ramping their arousal up. God, she could almost taste the smoky fire on her tongue as her fingers wound through his hair and tugged, head thrown back in a moan as he scraped his teeth against her nipple. He switched to the other side then, mouthing at her left breast, vest catching against her belly and trailed his metal fingers down between her legs, which shivered with anticipation. His fingers slid through the slick which had soaked her panties and she heard his breath stutter and then he said _“V”,_ hoarsely, like it was punched out of him.

“Please. Yes,” she found herself whispering back, her own voice a wreck. He nuzzled at her chest, idly laving her nipples, his right hand massaging each mound in turn. His fingers pushed her panties to the side and brushed up and down her slit in a slight caress, butterfly soft. 

She grunted impatiently at him, tugging his hair once more and he chuckled, the sound shooting straight to her core. His fingers suddenly plunged inside, three at once, stretching her wide. It was too much. It was perfect. She writhed beneath him.

He drew back and his hands were shaking as they went to his belt. She caught his eye and the question held there and nodded once more, warm in the knowledge that even in this, it was her choice. And this time she was choosing _him_ regardless of anything else. 

While he worked his jeans and shoes off and yanked his tac vest off, she slid her skirt and panties off and pushed the scraps of her one piece away from her. They reached for each other at the same time and it felt natural to come together this way as his fingers slid back into her and her hand wrapped around the length of him. God, maybe the skeevy internet rumors of his ‘impressive cock’ were true based on what she felt pulse in her hand. He was long and thick, uncut, his tip weeping clear fluid that her mouth watered to taste. She slid her palm down and felt the base of him, swelled slightly, his knot ready to pop. She felt a gush of slick escape her, imaging him inside and he groaned when his right hand trailed down to spread her lips wide and he leaned back, licking his lips to view her. 

He must’ve liked what he found because his pupils blew wide, and he moaned like he was hurt. Her hands fisted at her sides, curling into the sheets as she fought not to beg him for what they both wanted. But, in the next breath he had slid down and buried his face between her thighs, parting her lips with his broad tongue to lap at her slick.

She screamed, back arching in exquisite agony.

His fingers slid between his tongue, the flesh one this time, his metal hand pressing against her knee to make her spread wider. Two fingers entered her and crooked up, hitting a spot that had her flinging filthy curses into the air between them.

He laughed, the vibrations going right to her clit and setting off another string of curses when she felt another gush of fluid escape her as her walls fluttered around him. The laughter ended abruptly then and his fingers pulled out, his mouth gone, and she could have wept at the loss. But suddenly he was leaning over her, hands at her waist to lift her back up slightly and his cock was poised at her entrance and pressing inside slowly. 

Having never done this before, she expected pain, the kind she’d heard cut from the inside, from what rumors went around the other street kids. But she simply felt a tightness, a slight pinch if anything, and when he was buried to the hilt in her, even that was inconsequential. 

His chest met hers as she wrapped her arms around his back and her legs around his waist, causing him to slide in just a little more deeply and making them both curse this time. 

And then—

His hips were moving, the drag and slide of him inside so good she couldn’t stop herself from moaning if she wanted to. His head was by hers and she turned to see his expression and found his eyes already roaming her face, like he couldn’t bear to miss anything she did, like she was _his_. Their eyes locked, breaths panting between them and he closed that last inch and kissed her, her eyes fluttering closed.

This kiss was hot and wet and firm pressure demanding entrance which she willingly gave. Their tongues brushed together and she could taste that whiskey essence that was simply him and felt a wave of pleasure so deep, her skin prickled with warmth and she could feel herself flushing, sweat breaking out at her hairline. It reminded her of her heats and yet she was entirely aware and still couldn’t look away from the man above her. 

They were as close as possible, every inch pressed together, his hips still pistoning and hers rising to meet him, moans and groans tumbling into the hush around them, their scents comingling until she thought she could smell something lightly citrusy and fresh, like an ocean breeze ( what Jackie had described to her once) and then he snuck his right hand down between them to circle around her clit and she came with a wail bordering on the obscene.

His hips stuttered against hers as she clenched around him and then he buried himself in her, his knot slowly expanding, a sweet, aching pressure that kept them locked together as he came inside her and kept coming. His teeth bit into the side of her neck at the same moment, a sharp sting against her mating gland as he broke skin and then just a roiling wave of pleasure hit her. He pulled back to lap at the bleeding wound and she took the opportunity to nudge her face against his and press her own teeth into his neck, the taste of copper strong in her mouth as she dug into his own gland.

There was a snapping feeling in her mind and then she could feel him there with her. Taking up a small part of her head, radiating smug satisfaction and a joy he was only barely trying to conceal from her. V wondered if he could feel her in his head the same way and then, as her wits started to come back to her, wondered how he knew her name at all. They hadn’t spoken except for that brief interlude at the store.

“Yes, I can,” he rasped into her ear, tangled together as they were. “And I went through your phone.”

Indignation swept through her and she slapped at his back, the only part of him she could really reach, as close as they were. “Asshole!”

There was a happy flare at the back of her mind.

“Yep. Glad we got that out of the way, _soulmate_.”

She wondered if she could seriously injure herself with how hard her eyes rolled just then.

  
~*~*~

  
Later, when they were standing in his kitchen downstairs, him wearing only his dark jeans and she in some boxers and a t-shirt, sitting at his counter, was when they really started to hash things out. Turned out he had some issues that ran about as deep as hers did and, with sharing part of a mind, it was easier to talk about the hurts of the past. And some of the lighter parts such as—

“Robert?!” she snorted, nearly falling off the counter as she laughed. “Your real name is fucking _Robert_?!”

He scowled back at her, leaning against the counter opposite hers, arms crossed. But his scent still held a sweet note of happiness and the bond said that he was pleased at having made her laugh, even if it was at his own expense.

“Whatever, _Valerie_ ,” he said overly sweetly and this time it was her turn to scowl at him. 

“Say that again and you die,” she muttered sourly, kicking out at him.

“Give me some coffee or I’ll say it again,” he retorted easily, catching her foot with his metal hand and keeping her stuck in place.

She sipped at the steaming mug she held, the coffee carafe empty next to her, and hummed as though thinking about it.

“Not a chance, _Robert_.”

He tensed and she had a split second’s warning through the bond before he pounced. She rolled to the side and slid across the tile, turning and juking away when his hands came up to catch her. They grasped only air and she stood, now in the living room, sipping from her cup and relishing that not even a single drop had spilt. She could feel his amusement and astonishment through the bond and preened for a moment, cocking her hip at him and fluttering her eyelashes before he playfully growled and strode up to her to take the cup and sip at it.

“Gonna have a hard time with you, aren’t I?” he hummed, eyes darkening as he looked her over and she shuddered in anticipation and smiled.

Only V would have a soulmate that was such a complete asshole and yet so wonderful and so exclusively hers in a way she’d never thought she could have, that she felt that sharp pinch near her heart dissolve completely.

**Author's Note:**

> Song is Circus Minimus by JVZEL. I am not a native Spanish speaker so please excuse any errors.


End file.
